shoujodere

childhood sugawara koushi / reader. reader isn't really sure what love exactly is yet, but they think that this might be it. You are seven years old (and a half, you intervened knowingly) and you think that you might be in love. Well, you’re not really quite sure yet. You don’t really know what love actually means, but you know that you really, really, like this guy. He’s your neighbourhood friend; he comes to pick you up with a pearly white grin, hands intertwining with yours as you the both of you walk your way towards school—bright yellow helmets and small red backpacks clinging on your backs. He always, always,

iwaizumi hajime x reader. warning: mild cursing :-| Iwaizumi Hajime wasn’t very good with his feelings. It wasn’t like he was clueless or anything; a blind man could probably tell how in love Iwaizumi was with you. (It wasn’t hard to catch on, really. Iwaizuimi is an honest man–and his feelings were no different. Oikawa immediately knew after a few good observations, but he’s always been quite perceptive. Mattsun and Makki eventually caught up and teased him to hell and back.) But acting upon his feelings might as well be considered a mission impossible. While Iwaizumi was entirely aware of his romantic sentim

summary: kageyama and reader take a walk at night out. reader accidentally blurts out something. word count: 700 It was an accident. That was what you told him, anyway – apologetic smile and all, but he seemed all too flustered to take note of it. How Kageyama Tobio fell for you was completely beyond your knowledge. You weren't anything great, really, but you weren't exactly a reticent nobody either. "Normal" would've probably been the the word your friends would describe you as (which wasn't bad – but then again, boring). And they were right. You were normal. You didn't stand out in a crowd. You weren't ignored by everyone. Y

 dazai osamu x f!reader. warning: it's dazai, so there are light mentions of suicide/committing suicide. it's nothing explicit though, so it's nothing to stress about. “What about a Social Worker? Ah, wait, no – that’s not right… Maybe a Statistician? Oh! How about a Paralegal?” Atsushi looks at Dazai with hopeful, gleaming, ruby eyes. Did he finally get it right? After weeks of inconsistent guessing, did he finally manage to guess Dazai’s previous occupation? You gaze your eyes towards your other colleague, quietly observing his actions from afar, before he stands up on his feet with that whimsical smil

“I would have left first, but I live here.”  //  Shisui Uchiha You woke up to the sound of the birds chirping loudly outside of your window. A tired groan escapes your lips as you try to sit up from your bed until you felt an unexpected headache washing over you. You squint your eyes, carefully avoiding the sunlight rays that swept through your curtains. Your head still hurt. Just what did I do last night? You yawned tiredly as you then tried to rub the temples of your forehead in hopes of getting rid of the god-awful headache that you unfortunately woke up with. As you were about to get up from your bed to get yourself a glass

[ Post-Boruto: The Movie ; Two months later. ] He had always wondered what it was like. Love. He’s only a fourteen year old boy. He doesn’t know anything much about love. The only thing Boruto knows is that it messes you up, apparently. Uncle Shikamaru had told him that. ‘Love’s a drag, kid,’ he remembered Shikamaru telling him one day. Boruto only blinked. ‘It’s confusing and it messes you up; it’s super crazy like that.’ he added. When Boruto stares at his mother and father, he doesn’t think that love is what Uncle Shikamaru describes it to be. They weren’t confused. They

Oikawa always ends up staring at your eyes. No matter how many times he tries to look away or tries to ignore your glimmering and shining [e/c] eyes, he always ends up looking at them in the end. It’s cheesy, he had to admit that – it’s very cheesy; somewhat like those old romantic cliche movies that you’d see every once in a while, but he loves your eyes and he loves staring at them; and a huge smile breaks in to his face when he stares at you. You would always respond to him by giving him a furrowed eyebrow, mouthing a quiet ‘What?’ as if you were questioning his actions, but he would merely let out a sof

“You look awful.” Onyx eyes avert its way towards your figure – and you give him a small, gentle, smile before sliding the door closed behind you. He lets out a smirk of his own (that awful, horrendous, revolting smirk of his) and he slowly sits himself up from his bed to look at you clearly in the eyes. “Aha–! You came to visit me. I’m surprised.” You arched an eyebrow at him, and he shakes his head as he continues. For someone who has gotten stabbed so brutally, he sure is lively. Then again, when is he not lively? Obnoxious is a more appropriate word to use, actually. “No really, I am! Not o

Acaronar | Catalan (V.) To tenderly pull or draw someone closer – to hold, as for affection, comfort, or warmth; to fondle, to caress; to embrace, to protect. You were definitely well aware of the fact that Oikawa was a ‘touchy-feely’ person. Nearly every day he would tackle you into a death-gripping hug, every day he would sling an arm around your neck and pull you closer to him as he talked and laughed about his day, every day he would grab both of your hands and drag you along with him to wherever he went and ignoring your protests, every day he would affectionately wrap his arm around your waist and whisper sweet-nothi

“You’re leaving already?” “Ugh. I have an important meeting to go today and I honestly don’t want my boss scolding at me again for being late.” You got yourself up from the bed grudgingly and stretched your arms and looked back at Matthias who was still in bed, looking at you with a frown on his face. You frowned back at him. “We talked about this, Matthias. This—” You made a circle gesture with both of your hands between you and Matthias. “—It means nothing. That’s what you said, right? Our relationship is purely physical; nothing more, nothing less. We agreed on this.&